Although the November elections are months behind us, we still have a long recovery from the steady, corrosive damage of widespread misinformation, and from the explosive violence of Jan. 6. The scope of those headlines, and that continued reporting, is beyond a bimonthly neighborhood newspaper, but it is nonetheless important to name. And it reveals much about the work that we still have to do here, in our own communities. 

The racist roots of the violence we witnessed Jan. 6 wind deep through American history, and although they surfaced in Washington D.C., those roots stretch across the country. Our work begins at home.

Another election approaches this spring. Voting is critical, and participating in local elections can be so impactful. Local elected officials are, or should be, accessible in a way that national figures and administrations inevitably are not. The outcome of these elections across Madison and Dane County will shape our community’s responses to so many of the issues that we report on and share stories about. You will find articles about some of those issues in this edition of the Northside News. You will also find Candidate Q&As highlighting topics selected by the Northside Antiracism Group. We hope the information published here may help inform your decisions when casting your votes this spring. 

But voting is not everything. The last year has made clear that when we can’t depend on large systems to meet basic needs, we rely on each other. 

In the days leading up to Jan. 6, that first week of the year — Madison was coated in rime ice. Rime ice is fog, hardened. It freezes on tree branches, where it is most noticeable. Rime ice is often described as feathery, although I don’t see it. To me, it looks made up entirely of corners that glint sharply and scatter the sunlight. A morning of rime ice looks like winter finally becoming what winter was always meant to be. 

There is a metaphor tucked somewhere in this weather, in the sudden freezing of dense fog into a hard clarity. But for me, that first week of rime ice is less of a metaphor than it is part of the remembering. 

The last year brought so much loss. We have lost individually and personally: family members, and friends. We have lost collectively.

And the first week of the year, a moment that could have been a deep exhale and brief release, instead became an intense reminder of the urgency of the work we still have to do as a community. 

It feels important to mark this moment in time and remember it: what it looked like, and felt like. To acknowledge the last month and the last year. To witness the grief in its fog and frost. 

(there’s that metaphor).